


Transcendent

by orphan_account



Category: Black Mirror, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, San Junipero, i actually don't know how to tag this, themes of death and dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 04:25:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13380126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In the seaside town of San Junipero, two young men strike up a powerful bond that seems to defy the laws of space and time. A meeting of two souls that never had the chance to fall in love recklessly.





	Transcendent

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is heavily based on “San Junipero,” season 3 episode 4 of Black Mirror. The concept is NOT mine (credits to writer Charlie Brooker and director Owen Harris), though I did add a few elements that aren't necessarily canon. 
> 
> You do not need to have seen "San Junipero" to understand this story. In fact, I advise against reading any synopsis of it. In my opinion, it will ruin the effect, and I would prefer you watch the original episode to learn more.
> 
> Thanks to Your_Iron_Lung for beta reading, and thank you for giving this fic a chance.

Leo walked through the neon-lit streets of the beachside party town San Junipero, feeling somewhat out of place, but at the same time completely at home.

He had nowhere to be, but the vibrant sign of a bustling club caught his attention easily enough, and the prospect of socializing wasn’t as unappealing as usual. Rather, it was one of the truer explanations for why he was out tonight. To meet people. To relive the glory days, if he had any.

Leo took his time ambling along the sidewalk, peering into the shop windows he passed. He paused in front of a display of several flat screen televisions, each projecting the same newscaster describing the same phenomenon: the turning of 2012 into 2013—the end of the world failed, it seemed.

He turned his attention to his reflection in the glass, ran a hand through his hair, straightened out a wrinkle or two in his jacket, and continued down the road.

The club was called Valhalla. It took a bit for Leo to shoulder his way through the throng of people, only for him to grow anxious and weave on until he reached the other side of the room.

But hey, at least he was inside the club. Small victories, small victories.

Looking into the crowd, Leo wondered how many times these people had come here to be so comfortable. With themselves. With this whole… situation.

He surveyed the crowd, observing patterns and marveling at how the dancers’ movements could be so sporadic yet so fitting with those of their partners. Were they familiar with each other? Did they know each other before coming here? If not, would Leo be able to let loose with a stranger like they could? He thought not, but maybe some day he would try.

Today didn’t seem to be that day, however, so he settled down at the bar and ordered a Long Island iced tea all on his lonesome. He wasn’t sure if he’d get drunk, but he had time to find out.

Well, he would have if some pretentious fuck didn’t shove his business into his peace.

“That’s my seat,” said the aforementioned asshole from behind Leo.

Leo swiveled on the barstool and looked down at the black leather cushion, then spared a quick glance at the chrome beneath it. He flicked his eyebrows upward and stated, “I don't see your name on it.”

Leo had met the man’s eyes in the process. Hoshidan. In his twenties, more or less like every other person in the club. Except this one was a dude with hair so long that Leo was surprised it hadn’t caught his eye sooner.

Hoshidan Rapunzel replied, “It’s basically my seat. I’m here at the same time every week.” He nodded toward the bartender. “Ask Mark.”

The bartender, newly introduced as Mark, didn't need to be asked. “Yup. Saturdays at 7:10, on the dot.”

Leo took a sip of his drink and cringed. He didn’t even like the taste of alcohol, but he appreciated the way inebriation could slacken his jaw. Admittedly that was also a reason to avoid it, especially in the presence of his father.

“Apologies,” Leo said unapologetically. “Would you like me to scoot one seat down to accommodate your royal highness?”

The other man looked away and scoffed, and Leo smiled at the suggestion that rather than  _rude_  or  _annoying_ he could be considered  _amusing_  or maybe even  _charming_.

“Forget it,” the man said, helping himself to a seat at Leo’s side. He ordered himself something mixed with vodka and returned his attention to Leo. “Are you new here?”

Leo nodded. “I am. And I see you also have poor taste in alcohol.”

“This—” the man slid his glass several inches in Leo's direction for emphasis, “—is classic. Reminds you of the good ol’ shitty college days when you’d get blackout drunk and wonder how you could ever forget about your wildest night ever.” He pulled his drink back and shrugged. “Aaand then promptly hate yourself and everything around you.” He took a swig and sighed with a wince. “ _Nostalgic_.”

Leo chuckled. “That sounds a bit dramatic.”

“You must’ve had a nice life, then.”

“I have some regrets,” Leo offered. He didn’t know why he was opening up so soon. Better not take that any further.

“Don’t we all,” the other man said. He sipped his drink and asked, “Hey, what’s your name, by the way? I’d rather not remember you by ‘Nohrian-looking dude who took my seat at the bar last week.’”

Leo extended his hand out of courtesy. “I’m Leo.”

The other man shook it and replied, “I’m Takumi.”

Takumi’s hand was not warm, Leo noted.

 

* * *

  ** _One Week Later_**

* * *

 

They did not make plans to meet, but they met in Valhalla anyway.

Takumi spotted Leo as soon as he walked in; his usual seat was prime for people watching, and had a splendid view of the door. Takumi had made it to the club slightly earlier than planned, but he wouldn’t dare chalk it up to excitement.

“I wasn’t sure I’d see you back here,” Takumi told Leo, after the latter occupied the seat next to him. “It doesn’t seem like your place. Or time.”

“Says the guy who sits around drinking and not talking to anyone,” Leo countered.

“Does that make you a nobody?”

Leo scowled. He straightened his clothes and said, “I thought I’d sample it one more time. One should keep in mind that first impressions aren’t always accurate.”

“Well, I hope you have that opinion about me,” Takumi said, sliding a drink toward Leo. Something sweet. Something that didn’t taste like shit or regret. Or shouldn’t have.

Leo snorted. Twirling the straw in his drink, he replied, “Alright. You’re  _slightly_  less insufferable than I thought.”

Takumi chuckled at that. Why, he didn’t know. God, was he nervous? Pathetic.

Was this Leo fellow even gay? Takumi certainly was. Was he too afraid to ask? Did he prefer deluding himself, clinging to his hope?

But Leo  _was_  flirting with him, right?

Well, Takumi wasn’t looking for a friend, anyway. Might as well get it over with and save himself the stress.

“What?” Leo asked of Takumi's staring.

“You have a face like a prince,” he answered.

Leo choked on his drink, and Takumi willed himself not to laugh. He offered his companion a napkin instead, which Leo gratefully accepted.

“What, you mean I have a nose stuck up too high?” Leo asked bitterly. “A brow too wide? Chin jutting out too far? Too indignant? Or do you mean those inbred types that are all—”

“Christ, learn to take a compliment,” Takumi groaned, rolling his eyes.

Leo smiled. “Sorry, it’s not often I have someone hit on me.” His expression showed a whisper of sadness. “Much less a man.”

“Sorry,” Takumi blurted. He shifted out of his seat, saying, “I-if you’re not into that I can leave, or—”

“No!” Leo placed his hand over Takumi’s. Realizing his outburst, Leo withdrew his hand and corrected himself, “I mean—Please, stay. I don’t mind. It's just something I haven't explored.”

Takumi frowned. “As in… you’re not…?”

Leo stammered, “Well, I haven’t… um… I don’t…” He clenched his fists and admitted, “I have a wife.”

Takumi raised his eyebrows. “Oh.”

“ _Had_. Okay, no, technically  _have_. But it’s not... I haven’t seen her for a while—she passed two decades ago. A-and we have a son.” Leo looked down. “I just… thought you should know.”

“‘Passed’? As in…?”

“She didn’t come  _here_ , exactly,” Leo clarified. “It’s not that we’re avoiding each other. Rather, we never really connected. Like…” Leo chewed his lip. “It was missing something. Passion, I suppose.” He checked Takumi’s expression and quickly apologized. “Sorry, that was probably… You didn’t need to hear that, did you?”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Takumi insisted. “That’s just San Junipero, anyway. You’re honest, at least. I guess it’s refreshing. Um…”

Takumi quirked his head and blinked, then took a deep breath. “Listen, do you want to go out for dinner with me?”

 

* * *

  ** _One Week Later_**

* * *

 

They met at the club, but quickly abandoned it in favor of a quieter place to talk.

They found a café two blocks down, where they could be immersed in the scent of coffee and be surrounded by shelves sparsely occupied by books.

“No, but here’s the thing,” Takumi continued, “Greece took a whole other approach with their financial crisis. Iceland did it right—telling all the other countries to fuck off and let them do their own thing. They put whatever money they had left into welfare, education, and healthcare. The citizens did what they could and you saw per capita income increase and their whole situation improve overall. But Greece—”

“They were too concerned with repaying their debt,” Leo finished, “at the expense of their own economy.”

“Yes!” Takumi patted the table excitedly. “In Greece you saw higher rates of suicide, disease, and unemployment. Iceland? Their suicide rate hardly faltered. They took the better approach.”

“Their strategy was backed by the numbers, too, wasn’t it? Despite them being told otherwise.”

Takumi sighed. “Capitalism,” was all he said.

“Gotta love the iron cage,” Leo said dryly.

Takumi leaned forward from his seat across Leo. “So what’s your poison? Communism? Socialism? Anarchy?”

Leo shrugged. “They say capitalism drives innovation, and when it’s done properly competition should keep prices down—or reasonable, hopefully. And I can see that. Maybe I just wish it were regulated better. But power is a corruptive force, and the ones in control are susceptible to becoming honest-to-goodness assholes.”

“Ouch.”

“I speak from experience.”

Takumi smirked. “What, you were the CEO of some huge company that contributed to the extinction of bees in the UK? Or was responsible for thousands of acres of deforestation in the Amazon?”

“My father,” Leo said quietly.

“What?” Takumi did not hear.

“I am an heir.”

Takumi blinked. “O-oh… Sorry.”

“There’s no need for that.” Leo sipped the caffeinated beverage in his mug. He couldn’t taste it very well, but he had an idea of what it should have tasted like. “I just wish I had more of a childhood, I suppose. It was all work and no play. Following orders. Fitting into a mold. I think it stunted my social development. Even now, I don’t know how to act as if I didn’t have a rod shoved up my ass.” He chuckled to himself, then looked up at Takumi and apologized.

“I had a childhood, but no future,” Takumi said.

Leo did not respond. Only fixed his gaze on Takumi’s face to indicate that he was listening. By now, he knew better than to pry; people’s stories were their own in San Junipero, and in most cases were better left unsaid.

Takumi did not explain further, and Leo suggested that they ditch the café to walk along the beach instead.

 

* * *

  ** _One Week Later_**

* * *

 

Takumi asked Leo if he wanted to take it back to his place, and Leo accepted his offer.

Takumi drove them out of the inner city to a house nestled in a stout hill, which was speckled with wildflowers. The house overlooked the beach, and by the time they made their way to the bedroom, the glow of sunset seeped in through the wide windows, staining everything it could reach a somber shade of orange.

Takumi tried to hide his nerves, but they had reached a point where he’d do nearly anything to still his shaking.

“I’ve never done this before,” he confessed suddenly.

“Never?” Leo asked, astounded. He was seated on the edge of Takumi’s bed and had already removed his shirt.

Takumi shook his head. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

Leo stood and took Takumi’s head in his hands, then kissed his forehead. They had the perfect heights for that, Leo noticed.

“Shh.” Leo smoothed out his hair and looked into his eyes. “I don’t care about that. I’ll follow your pace.” Leo laughed. “Christ, I don’t know what I’m doing either. This is my first time with a man, you know.”

“But you still have more  _experience_ —”

“It’s  _different_.” Leo moved Takumi’s hands to his neck so he could feel his racing pulse. “Look, I'm nervous, too.”

Takumi swallowed. “Well, you’re good at hiding it.”

“The benefits of living a lie,” Leo mumbled.

“What are you, a melodrama?” Takumi scoffed.

“Can I kiss you now?”

Takumi’s eyes widened. He quickly squeezed them shut and shook his head. “God,  _yes_! Fuck, you don’t even need to ask.”

Leo did not need to hear more (a simple “yes” would have sufficed), and he immediately captured Takumi’s lips in his own. The kiss was warm. Soft.

Breathtaking, in Takumi’s opinion. After a second’s worth of reprieve to search Leo’s eyes for approval he tangled his fingers in Leo’s hair and went in for more.

Leo’s hands found the hem of Takumi’s shirt and traveled upward under the cloth, feeling up Takumi’s abdomen and his torso, then moved to his back to pull him closer. Takumi slid his hands down to work at Leo’s belt. Leo’s kisses wandered to his neck, and Takumi had to ask himself if this was really happening.

Leo shed his pants and stripped Takumi of his shirt. They fell onto the bed, Takumi’s body pressed into the mattress by Leo’s weight. Leo’s hand dipped into Takumi’s underwear, and Takumi choked out:

“Do you have your pain slider set to zero?”

Leo looked puzzled for a split second, then answered, “Yeah, I do.”

Takumi nodded. “Okay. Good. Me, too.”

 

* * *

 

The sex was amazing, but Takumi wished he could have felt it more.

Maybe that was the tradeoff with nostalgia therapy. It depended on things you remembered. The things you hadn't experienced yourself weren’t as vivid. Though there was a collective component to constructing the environment, what was there to fill in the space of something as private as sexual intimacy? That was unique. Special.

(Or maybe it was the pain slider. Hell if he knew how this technology worked.)

At least the numbness only seemed to apply to his physical being. Otherwise there would be no explanation for the tightness he felt in his chest when he saw Leo stir in his sleep.

God, he really did look like a prince, with that elegant brow and fine nose. Eyelashes that would have made his older sister jealous. It’s a wonder how Leo didn’t turn out spoiled rotten. If Takumi had the time or the money he would have gladly given Leo everything he had.

Maybe it was easy for him to say just because he didn’t have either of those things. Not really.

Takumi glanced at the analog clock on the wall. He was fond of that clock. Every numeral on it was substituted by a picture of a bird. Takumi liked birds.

He gently shook his bedmate. “Leo,” he whispered. “Hey, wake up.”

Leo groaned and lazily swatted Takumi's hand away. “What?”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“Shit, really?” Leo rubbed his eyes and searched for the clock. He slumped back when he read the time, 11:52. “Another week, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sore anywhere?”

“Huh? No, no—not at all.”

Neither of them spoke for a solid minute. Only reached out for each other. To touch skin. To trace the outline of lips with light fingertips.

“When are you passing?” Takumi asked.

Leo chuckled. “There’s a question.”

“Sorry. It's been on my mind a lot recently.”

“Do you know when you are?”

Takumi nodded, lacing his fingers with Leo’s. “Soon. It’s progressed too far. I don’t recognize my little sister anymore. I don’t even know myself half the time. I do things I don’t mean to.” Bitterly, he added, “I’m a burden to everyone. I can’t eat without choking. I can’t even take a goddamn piss on my own.”

“They didn’t do genetic screens?” Leo asked.

“My parents didn’t think they had anything. Neither of them showed signs, and my siblings were completely fine. I started the trial for this—” Takumi motioned vaguely at everything, “—not long after I was diagnosed. It doesn’t work so well if you initialize with a damaged frontal cortex. Didn’t make use of it until the end was in sight, though.”

Leo wasn’t sure what to say. He just gathered Takumi into his arms and tried to soothe him. Stroking his back. Burying kisses into his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Unless you’re God, I don’t want your apology.” Takumi snuggled into Leo’s embrace, making himself comfortable. “What’s your baggage?”

“I told you, I didn’t have much of a childhood. My reasons are more selfish than yours, it seems.”

“I’m not trying to turn this into a competition, you dolt.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “I’m just old. The parts are getting rusty. So it goes.”

They lay there, processing the new information about each other. Synchronizing their breathing, then not.

Takumi sat up abruptly. “Let’s meet in the 80s next week.”

“The 80s,” Leo repeated skeptically.

“Yes! How about 1985—just like the song. We’ll see what all the hubbub was about, learn what the heck’s so great about disco, and we’ll have a great night out.”

“‘Like the song?’” Leo was sure Takumi was messing with him. “Takumi, you realize that’s not even our era. Also, disco was the 70s.”

“Details, details,” Takumi waved a hand. “Our era was shit, anyway. The 80s, on the other hand, was a time of  _optimism_. The economy was booming, international relations were temporarily  _not_  atrocious, and… You know, it was just colorful and fun.”

Leo sighed. “Fine. I’ll indulge you.”

At midnight, when Leo opened his eyes—really and truly—he could still feel Takumi’s lips against his, but it was probably just his imagination.

 

* * *

  ** _One Week Later_**

* * *

 

“I don't know how to dance,” Leo told Takumi. It was belated; they were already on the dance floor.

“Neither do I,” Takumi admitted, a huge grin plastered on his face. “I’m hoping I can just watch people and figure something out.”

“We’re going to make fools of ourselves.” Leo simply stood across Takumi, too stiff to even bounce along to the beat. He ran his hand through his hair anxiously, in part so he could seem like he was actually doing something (which, of course, he wasn’t).

“Leo.” Takumi pressed his palms against Leo’s cheeks and pulled his face in close. “Literally no one cares. Full-timers understand. Part-timers? Fuck them.” He released Leo. “I mean, what are they gonna do? Seek you out just so they can point and laugh at your crusty old body? That’s nonsense.”

“Hey, that’s rude,” Leo said. “My body is adequately moisturized at all times and is, in fact,  _not_  crusty.”

Takumi rolled his eyes. His sight fell upon a pair dancing in circles around each other, and he attempted to mimic their shoulder movements.

Leo smirked. “Actually, maybe it’s you whom I’m afraid to look silly in front of.”

“Is that so?” Takumi asked, still looking over at the other dancers.

“If we switched places right at this moment, I’m sure you would be keeling over. I’m trying really hard not to laugh right now. I want you to know that.”

Takumi glared at Leo, then smiled mischievously. Without breaking eye contact, Takumi’s movements became more exaggerated. He performed some…  _weird_  syncopated shimmy, popped his chest out and back a few times, bent his knees and did God-knows-what with his hands.

It effectively drew the laughter out of Leo, and Takumi wasn't the least bit ashamed. Proud, rather.

Leo covered his face with his hands. “Oh, no. I can’t believe I  _know_  you!” And he continued to laugh.

“Heck yeah, you do.” Takumi edged closer. “Ravishing, aren’t I? A real catch.”

Leo played along. “Heaven help me. I’m crushing hard on a man with no sense of self.”

“More than  _that_.” Takumi moved closer yet, such that Leo could have felt his breath on his lips. “Admit it. You’re falling in love with me.”

His voice was sultry in Leo’s ears, and this combined with the fact that Takumi had just brought his hands to his waist made Leo’s head spin. Leo swayed to Takumi’s lead, utterly enchanted by the man before him. “I think you're right.”

Takumi smiled beautifully, leaving Leo at a loss for words.

“I guess dancing really isn’t your thing,” Takumi sighed in feigned defeat. Then he whispered, “Do you want to get out of here?”

 

* * *

 

They were lying in bed when Leo asked where Takumi was.

Takumi answered, “I’m right here, duh.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Leo replied.

Takumi shook his head. “It’s not important.”

“I want to know that we don’t just exist here. I need confirmation that this is real.”

“ _I_  can’t give you that,” Takumi snapped.

Leo was taken aback, but persevered. “I want to see you. I want to come visit.”

Takumi was equally as stubborn. “No. Absolutely not. There’s nothing for you there.”

“How can you say that? As long as you’re there—”

“I stopped moving!” There were tears in Takumi’s eyes. “I can’t move anymore. I’m hooked up to all these tubes… and… I don’t want you to see that.” He rasped, “ _Please_.”

Leo never thought himself to be a sympathetic crier, but he felt awfully close now. “Okay, I won’t.” He held Takumi close—that seemed to calm him down a bit—and stroked his hair until his trembling stopped.

“Can I come to your funeral, then?” Leo asked eventually.

“What?”

“No—your viewing, rather. Or both, if I can. It would be a shame if I never laid eyes on how lovely you were when you were old.”

Takumi laughed incredulously at his gall.

“I’d like to bring you some flowers. Real ones. From my garden, even.” Leo toyed with Takumi’s hair. “Doesn't that sound nice?”

“Fine,” Takumi allowed, his lips curled into a hint of a smile.

 

* * *

  ** _Three Weeks Later_**

* * *

 

Takumi was uploaded to San Junipero two days before the funeral. At Takumi’s request, Leo was not present, but he knew when the euthanization was scheduled and made plans accordingly.

The Leo outside of San Junipero was pushing ninety-five, wheelchair-bound and hacking up nothing despite his constant urge to cough. His joints ached, but there was medication to fix that, or at least  _seem_  to. His muscles had atrophied a significant amount, and as a result he’d become dependent on his caretaker Odin for almost all of his daily tasks.

It was Odin who accompanied Leo from the nursing facility to Takumi’s hometown. It would have taken them ages traveling on land, but if Leo was going to use his remaining riches for anything he figured the flight and all the necessary precautions for his age were meager sacrifices. He’d need to get dialysis during his trip, but that was of little concern to Leo.

To his benefit, the flight was quick: a mere two hours. Oddly, the most difficult part was entering the chapel, which was not equipped to accommodate handicapped folk. This required Odin to set Leo’s flowers down, carry the wheelchair to the top of the stairs, and to support Leo’s frail body on the way up. They had to take several breaks, and though Odin insisted it was no trouble, Leo cursed society for not caring more for the elderly who bothered to have lives outside of San Junipero.

Leo met Takumi’s sister first. She was a woman with a quiet sort of power, compelling in her own right. She also seemed young—maybe in her fifties—but Leo tried not to think about it.

“We had two older siblings,” the sister, Sakura, explained. “Th-they were both skeptical of San Junipero, so they refused it. And I don’t blame them. We had a cousin… I-it doesn’t bode well for those with dissociative identity disorder, we learned. The timing is crucial.”

Leo offered his condolences, then asked, “What do you think of it? San Junipero.”

Sakura looked toward the casket. “I worried about meeting our mother and father. We’re also a bit religious, you see. B-but you can leave San Junipero anytime. That makes me think it’s alright.” She turned her gaze to Leo. “How do you know my brother?”

Leo gestured at the flowers in his lap. “I brought him these.”

She smiled and nodded, and seemed to understand. “Thank you.”

Odin wheeled Leo to the casket, but it was too high for him to peer inside. He was assisted to standing once more, and Leo was struck with grief.

He had two realizations. The first was that the man before him truly was Takumi. Though his hair was shorn short—likely to give his caretakers one less hassle—and his body had ripened with age, the body and the man he met in San Junipero shared the same facial features. Sure, his nose had gotten a little puffier, his cheeks and eyes were a little more sunken, and there was more than a modest amount of wrinkles. But Leo could easily recognize the man he had fallen in love with, and it was clear that they were one and the same.

Leo’s second realization, however, was that Takumi was significantly younger than Leo had thought. He was not so much concerned about the age difference; he knew of many married couples with two, rarely three, decades between them, and technology was rapidly changing norms, as it does.

Takumi had died too soon, Leo felt. And for that reason, he wept.

 

* * *

  ** _One Week Later_**

* * *

 

Leo was eager for his regularly scheduled time in San Junipero.

To his delight, it seemed that as soon as he attached the little white device to his temple and was hooked up to the system, Takumi was there.

Leo started his session in San Junipero at his house, as per usual. It contrasted with Takumi’s: as opposed to a hillside, Leo’s home was buried in a thicket of woods. Sunlight leaked through spaces that the leaves could not reach, and when the wind blew it had the effect of shimmering.

Today, however, there was one anomaly: Takumi was waiting out front, leaning on his car with the engine still running.

Leo poked his head out the door, waiting for Takumi to notice him. When he did, Takumi raised his sunglasses to the top of his head ( _What a dork,_  Leo thought.  _Sunglasses? In_ this _forest?_ ), and he smiled.

Leo bolted out the door, sprinting down the cobblestone path to the main road. He stumbled approximately two times, but he was so goddamn excited he couldn’t help but run as fast as his youthful twentysomething-year-old legs could take him.

He practically leapt into Takumi’s arms, and Takumi dispelled the excess momentum by swinging him around and off the ground. Takumi’s laughter rang in Leo’s ears, and happiness welled up in his chest.

“I missed you,” Leo breathed.

“Same here. God, it’s so nice to see you. And—” Takumi pressed his hands against several arbitrary locations on Leo’s back. “Wow, you feel so  _real_.”

“Do I?” Leo said, still unwilling to let go.

“It’s been happening for a lot of things. Everything…  _feels_  more. Like, I can smell the ocean, taste the fucking vodka. I can feel how  _warm_  you are.” Takumi nuzzled the junction between Leo’s neck and shoulder. “It’s the best damn thing in the world.”

Leo peppered Takumi’s face with kisses, earning himself more sorely needed laughs, and he punctuated them with one fat smooch on the lips.

“I brought you flowers,” Leo said, leaning back enough so he could get a proper look at his lover’s face.

“Yeah? What kind?” Takumi asked, and his brown eyes were big and dazzling.

“Roses. Red ones. White ones. A dozen of them.”

“I’m honored.”

“I wish I could have brought you more. A truckload, if I could.” Leo strode to the passenger’s side of the car and sat inside. “What are we doing today?”

“Anything,” Takumi said, settling into the driver’s seat. “Whatever you want.”

Leo pursed his lips and rubbed his chin. “You ever go skinny dipping?”

Takumi grinned wide. He brought his sunglasses back down over his eyes, shifted the gear, and announced, “Skinny dipping, it is!”

 

* * *

  ** _Four Weeks Later_**

* * *

 

There was one matter in particular that Leo had to address before he was ready.

“Can you call my son?” Leo had asked Odin earlier in the week. “Tell him I'm passing, if you need to.”

Though he spent a lot of time mulling over what he should say, Leo found himself dauntingly unprepared when his son arrived at the facility. Just hearing Forrest correct one of the nurses that he was a man and not a “Miss” had his heart rate shooting up so high he feared he’d have an infarction and die without being uploaded to San Junipero.

“Does he know I'm passing?” Leo hastily asked Odin.

“It wasn’t necessary to say so,” his caretaker replied.

Forrest was perhaps the only person Leo could expect to wear five-inch heels at the age of sixty. He was certainly the only  _man_  who would do so. His hair was straightened and reached his waist, and his makeup was bold but flawless. He was adorned with accessories and jewelry, just short of excessive. Forrest’s clothes were modern and feminine—he was always up to date with the latest trends—but he’d at least chosen to wear pants in lieu of a dress, for Leo’s sake.

It made Leo feel guilty, for what he had to say could not undo the years he spent trying to mold Forrest into someone he was not.

“Father,” Forrest greeted him. He sat on the common room’s couch, adjacent to where Leo sat on his wheelchair.

“Forrest,” was all Leo could say before he was struck by a fit of coughing. His son waited patiently for it to abate. Leo tried to ignore the pity in his eyes; he didn’t deserve it.

Leo resumed, “I’ll make this quick so you can go. I know you don’t—”  _Cough_. “—don’t like spending time here.”

“That’s not true, I—“

“I’m not mad,” Leo interrupted. “Really, it’s fine.”

Forrest sighed. “What is it, then, father?”

Leo made sure to meet his son’s eyes as he said, “I want to apologize.”

Forrest frowned and furrowed his brow, but he did not speak.

So Leo continued. “Nothing I say can bring back your childhood. You and I grew up in similar circumstances—”  _Cough. Cough._  “I should’ve known better than to try and control who you are. I want you to know that as long as you are pursuing what you love, I am proud of you.”

Leo shook his head and coughed once more. “No, that’s a lie. It’s more than that. I love you no matter what. You are my beloved son, Forrest. I’m ashamed for not saying this sooner.”

Forrest stared for an uncomfortable amount of time, unspeaking.

Leo pursed his lips. “You don’t have to forgive me. But I hope that I am now one less weight off your shoulders.”

Forrest laughed. “Oh, father. You know I haven’t cared about what you think for a while now.”

Leo chuckled with him. “I suppose that's true.”

“Still…” Forrest reached out to take his father’s hand in his own. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

  ** _Four Days Later_**

* * *

 

Leo passed.

He neglected to tell Takumi in advance when he was to be euthanized, and so he used the time alone to gather his bearings.

Takumi was right. San Junipero was much more vivid when it became permanent—when he became a full-timer. Leo was so baffled by it all that he spent twenty minutes just circling his house, left hand stuck out and fingers spread wide so he could feel the leafy hedges brush against his skin as he walked through the gardens. Where he lived smelled fresh and green, and for this he was glad.

In the garage, Leo had a sleek, black motorcycle. He didn’t need a helmet, but wearing one felt nostalgic so he put it on anyway.

He zoomed through the streets, feeling anonymous and powerful. Like nothing could bring him down. Imbued with that naïve notion of being young and invincible. He didn’t know where he was going, but he was pleased that his unguided exploration led him to the beach.

After parking his motorcycle and stripping his helmet, he kicked off his shoes and stepped into the sand. He could feel the roughness of the grains and how they shifted under his curling toes. Leo looked up to see the sun high in the sky, and felt its warmth where the light struck his skin. He stepped further down the beach, near the sea’s edge. When the tide was low, he planted his feet where the sand was damp, and felt positively giddy when the cool water rushed over him.

When he was satiated, Leo returned to his motorcycle. He brushed off the sand coating his feet as best he could and put on his shoes. He donned his helmet, then rode to Takumi’s house.

Leo and Takumi lived on opposite ends of San Junipero, it seemed. But that didn’t matter. It only meant they had a whole town between them to discover, and Leo knew that if they  _really_  wanted to they could meet in a heartbeat.

They had time. That was the most important thing. They had forever, if they wanted.

Leo’s engine was obnoxiously loud when he pulled in to Takumi’s driveway. It was with purpose: soon after his arrival, Takumi came out the front door to investigate, and appeared flabbergasted when Leo twisted the key out of his motorcycle and removed his helmet.

“Hey,” Leo said, raising his hand in a simple wave.

Takumi looked at Leo, down the street, behind him, and back at Leo. “Did you…?” He pointed. “What are you…?” Then realization. “ _Oh_.”

Leo shielded his eyes from the sunlight. “You have any plans today?”

Takumi scoffed and turned his back on Leo. “Yup.”

Leo’s face fell. This was not the reaction he was expecting.

Then, Takumi paused at the doorway. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He beckoned and yelled, “Get in here! I’m making soup!”

Leo smiled and followed Takumi inside.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to imagine that they passed Yorkie and Kelly at the club at some point (...despite how I renamed Tucker's).
> 
> Amazing fanart by the great eru: [(link to Twitter)](https://twitter.com/aquam0n1ca/status/952561405948936192) Go check it out!


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